"You had no right!" she continued. "You have said things—done things—you have taken shameful advantage—you have treated me like—I suppose like—that other—that other—— You dared!"
Van's face took on an expression of hardness, to mask the hurt of his heart.
"Who says so?" he demanded quietly. "You know better."
"It's true!" she answered hotly. "You had no right! It was mere brute strength! You cannot deny what you have been—to that miserable woman!" Tears of anger sped from her eyes, and she dashed them hotly away.
Van stepped a little closer.
"Beth," he said, suddenly taking her hand, "none of this is true, and you know it. You're angry with that woman, not with me."
She snatched her hand away.
"You shan't!" she said. "Don't you dare to touch me again. I hate you—hate you for what you have done! You've been a brute probably to her as well as to me!"
"To you? When?" he demanded
"All the time! To-day!—Now!—when you say I'm angry at a—woman who is dead!—a woman who died for you!"